Liars' Games (Project Chameleon Book 1)

by Susan Finlay

  After dinner she read with Marcus. When he grew sleepy, she tucked him into bed, then quietly crept to the door and switched off his light. How innocent he looked, lying there under his yellow comforter, the soft glow of his night-light giving off an almost angelic aura. If only he could stay that way. Someday he would face life’s challenges, and his innocence would fade away. The sudden ringing of her cell phone made Claire jump and sent her dashing from his bedroom down to the living room. She made it to the phone on the third ring.

  “Sorry it took so long to get back to you,” Brad said. He cleared his throat, and in the distance a car horn tooted. “I was on the phone with my immediate boss. Not an easy man to deal with, even when things are going good, so you can guess his reaction.” He paused, and a clicking sound, like someone typing on a computer keyboard filled the silence.

  Claire’s hope sank. The pauses, the tone of his voice, his words. He was preparing her for bad news.

  Oh, God. Please let it be a minor delay. I can’t last here a week or two more.

  “You’re not gonna like this.”

  She plopped down onto the sofa and waited for the anchor to drop and pull her underwater.

  “Okay, there’s no easy way to say this so I’m gonna give it to you straight. My boss’s boss is a good friend of Senator Reynolds, so when she asked him for assistance in getting you a job in a school district in his state, the senator agreed, as a favor to her. No one in the school district knows why Senator Reynolds stuck his neck out, only that he personally wanted you hired there. He vouched for you, based on info we gave him. If you quit or if you fail, it’ll reflect on him.”

  Claire struggled to digest this new information.

  “That would cause a friction between us and the Colorado state government, as well as between two friends. I don’t think I need to tell you what that means, do I?”

  Claire’s mouth dropped open. She could hardly breathe, let alone get any words out of her mouth.

  “Look, I know this isn’t an easy situation,” Brad said. “Personally, I’d rather bring you and your son in and start over. But it’s not my call.”

  “But—but wouldn’t it cause more friction if John Richmond follows through with his threat?”

  “His threat?”

  “He, well, he said that if I messed up in the job, it might get out to the public that the senator recommended me for the job because I was his mistress. That would hurt his re-election campaign. That sounded like a threat to me. I’m sure he was implying that it would get leaked out.”

  “Yes, I would call that a threat. Listen, he’s trying to intimidate you. This was a power play. That’s all. He was letting you know that he was ticked off because someone usurped his power and told him who to hire.”

  “I understand that. But how do you expect me to work under these conditions? He’s terrible, the school’s terrible. I don’t think I can even do this job. It’s a nightmare.

  “You’ll do fine. You’re not gonna fail, Claire. You can’t.”

  “But you don’t understand. The school is—”

  “I’m not moving you,” Brad said. “I can’t. Deal with it.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “But you promised.”

  “We have limitations and you’ve pushed them. Two moves in less than a year and you’re asking for a third. Not gonna happen. No more moves.”

  “What about the Principal PLACE test and the principal preparation program? How can I possibly pass those?”

  “How about study? I’ll try to get you a copy of the test, if I can. I can’t promise anything.”

  “Did you check out the program requirements? It says they do an extensive background check and I have to submit college transcripts. How can any of that happen? You have to bring me back in.”

  “Yeah, I did look at that website after our earlier conversation,” Brad said. “So did my boss. He said he’ll take care of those two items. It’ll take some doing but there are ways around some of that when you have the right connections.”

  “Right, I forgot. It’s all about politics and connections, isn’t it?” He didn’t answer.

  After she hung up the phone, she wanted to scream. Throw a temper tantrum. Something. That reminded her of the few occasions when, as a child, she had thrown a tantrum. Her father had locked her inside a dark wardrobe until she’d settled down.

  She rose and paced around her living room. How could she stay here in Colorado? Brad and others involved in the program had promised to protect her and Marcus. Where was the protection in that horrible school and this situation?

  Ugh! She picked up a glass vase off an end table and aimed it at the wall, then stopped herself. Smashing it would wake and scare Marcus.

  Claire rolled the delicate vase back and forth between her open palms, calming her nerves, and thought back over the meeting earlier in the day. Under John Richmond’s scrutiny she’d squirmed like a naughty child. But John wasn’t the only person who made her feel anxious. Her whole life she’d been a social misfit, especially around her so-called peers. Interactions in her past two fictitious identities reaffirmed that as well. The truth suddenly hit her in the face. It wasn’t only peers that caused her anxiety; she had problems with all the politics and the rules, too.

  She sighed and closed her eyes. She’d entered witness protection assuming she’d be giving herself and her son the best chance to live. But what was the ultimate cost? Politics and rules now controlled her whole life, restricted her ability to live in accordance with her own values. With so many restraints, how could she ever hope to blend in around these people, especially considering she felt like a freak? In the past, she’d blamed her freakiness on the fact that everyone knew she was a child-prodigy and thus treated her like a misfit. So if she wasn’t showing her real self now, what was her excuse now? Why couldn’t she fit in?

  She set the vase back down on the table next to her sofa and switched off the lamp, then wandered into her bedroom. Groggy from stress and finding no answers, she decided a good night’s sleep might provide a fresh perspective.

  Thursday morning, Claire awoke with a terrible headache. She pulled her car out of the garage, saw the gloomy sky looking ready to dump snow, and she groaned. Didn’t she have enough clouds hanging over her already? Okay, look at the bright side. If it’s going to snow, make it a blizzard so school will be cancelled.

  She waited for a while, sitting in her car in the driveway with the car’s motor running. Of course not a single flake fell. Just swell! She covered her face with her hands—doomed to go to work and deal with problems. Bracing herself, she slowly backed out of the driveway.

  School held four more disciplinary problems, two teacher complaints, and one practice fire drill before she had the chance to sit down. When she did, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Times like these, she really missed having a confidant, like her mother or father or boyfriend. What would they say if her mother was still alive, if her father was still speaking to her? Would they tell her to abandon ship and disappear in the night? That’s something Claire had thought about doing more than once. No, her parents would probably say what she already knew in her heart. Hiding out without the government’s help might be possible if she were alone. But as a mother, she couldn’t risk it. Claire’s one consolation in all of this was that her so-called protectors might have no choice but to bring her back in.

  If she failed, that is.

  But could she bear to fail? Could she even accept failure as an option? Although she was far from perfect, she hated failure more than she liked to admit. She shook herself. No, she couldn’t. That’s not going to happen. Her shoulders slumped. Yeah, right. Just because she hated failing, that didn’t mean she was immune to it. So there she was, full circle—stuck, with no hope for release, and facing the fear of failure and violence that seemed inherent in this job.

  She laid her head on her desk. Brad Meyers would surely come to his senses and bring her in, she told herself. Until then, best she
keep busy and try to work on solving the school’s problems. A challenge suddenly struck her head-on. Granted it was a seemingly impossible one, but a positive challenge, none the less. What if she could actually accomplish it? She would be making the school a safe environment and helping all those students. Perhaps she needed to stop feeling sorry for herself and start thinking of the students and the faculty.

  Her spirits lifted momentarily, until the enormity of the task threatened to shove her down. She—one person—couldn’t fix so many problems, especially when she didn’t even fully understand how this school functioned. God! No one could do it alone. It would take the entire faculty. How could she get their support when they mostly treated her like she had the plague?

  She needed a secret weapon. Ron. He was the key to her success here. With his support, she might, just might, have a chance of winning over the rest of the faculty. They seemed to follow his lead despite him being second in command. Of course that still left her with a problem. Ron remained aloof despite her best efforts to win him over. That needed to change.

  For the rest of the day, whenever she caught a few spare minutes, she brainstormed ideas, researched online for resources, and jotted down notes. After school was dismissed for the day, she met with Ron in her office and laid out her plan. He didn’t say anything after she finished. He looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

  Claire sat in her chair, her arms spread out on her desk in front of her in almost pleading fashion. “I know it won’t be easy, but I want to make Midland a place where we can all feel safe, faculty and students alike. To do that, I need your help. I need the faculty’s help. One person can’t do it.”

  He drummed his fingers on the desk for a few moments, his face turning red.

  “Why should I help you? You’re just like the last principal here at Midland. He left all the work to me and did nothing except kiss up to the board. He finally tried to tighten security— only after things had deteriorated so bad that he couldn’t bear coming to work. By then, it was hopeless.”

  “It’s not hopeless. We can fix the problems.”

  “You mean ‘we’, as in the rest of us. We’re supposed to do your job. I’ve worked for a couple principals who treated their staff like slaves. I’m not going to be anyone’s slave anymore.”

  Shocked at his vehement response, and from what she was hearing, Claire tried to see things from his perspective. “I’m sorry you’ve been through that, Ron. I’ve worked under people like that, too. I promise you, I won’t delegate my work. I’m a doer. But I can’t do everything. What I’m proposing is a huge undertaking, I know. To fix the problems here—and the problems are not trivial—I have a lot to do and I need the entire faculty to work together with me as a team.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s hard to believe. From the start you seemed like another one of those ‘do-nothing’ types.”

  Claire winced. “Ron, please don’t judge me yet. Yes, I didn’t jump into action immediately. I’ve only been here a little less than a fort—I mean two weeks.” She paused. “I needed to get acquainted with the school first. I’m still getting acquainted. I needed to study the situation so I could figure out what needed to be done before I initiated any plans. Like I said, I’m a doer, but I don’t jump into action blindly, without facts. Does that make sense?”

  He studied her face. After a few moments, he said, “I guess it does. You’ve got to understand my situation.” He stood up and paced the floor. “I was second in charge around here. The job should have gone to me. Instead, I’m skipped over and forced to answer to an inexperienced principal. No matter what your credentials say, it seemed pretty obvious you didn’t know what you were doing.”

  “You’re wrong. I’ve plenty of experience.” She paused, realizing what he’d just said. “Wait. You wanted the position? They told me no one wanted the job.”

  “Of course I wanted it. I’m stuck here and I’ve been doing most of the administrative work, except for budgeting and going to the administrative meetings, so why shouldn’t I have the title and the money?”

  “Ron, I’m sorry. Please understand that I didn’t make the decision to skip over you. The board made that decision. Please don’t hold a grudge against me.”

  He crossed his arms and remained silent for a few moments, then apparently decided and said, “I know it was because of the previous principal, Carl Robinson. He didn’t like me and didn’t hide that fact. He put me in a bad light with the board. This may get me fired, but I’m tired of walking around on egg shells around bosses, afraid I’ll say something wrong, something that’ll make him or her mad and get on my case. I’m not the only one around here who feels that way. Makes life here untenable. If we can’t be honest with each other, say what has to be said, then you’re no different than those other principals and I don’t want to work here anyway.”

  She bit her lip. He was absolutely right. A year ago she would have said the same thing. Before she became a pawn in a liar’s game of chess. Don’t let him see how much his words sting, she told herself. “All right, look, I admit it. I may not know all I need to know about this job at this moment, but I can and will manage and I will fix this school. It’ll take time for me to become proficient, so I would appreciate any help you can give me.”

  He snickered.

  “Look,” she said, “it’s no surprise that you’re ahead of me when it comes to knowing about this school, the faculty, and the students. I will learn about that quickly. And if you help me get there I can teach what you need to know about budgeting, finance, planning, and decision-making skills to become a principal. Have you heard of Game Theory? Working together can be a win-win scenario for both of us.”

  He stopped in mid-pace and stared at her. “Yeah, right. Forgive me for not kissing up. I’m not that easily swayed.”

  “Ron, listen to me. Please. I mean every word. I want this and I truly believe everyone at Midland will benefit. Well, with the exception of the gang members and drug-dealers, that is.”

  He twisted his mouth. “You want to impress the school board, take all the credit for fixing things so that you can advance your career. Isn’t that what this is really about?”

  Claire sighed. “No, I don’t have any desire to move up in this district, Ron. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here. I just want to make this school safe for as long as I’m here and afterwards.”

  He squinted at her. “What? I’m confused. You talk like this is a temporary job for you. We were told that it’s permanent.”

  “It’s supposed to be. But, honestly, I move around a lot.”

  His gaze held hers. “Well, Principal, I guess that’s the difference between us. You see, I live here.”

  “Please work with me, Ron.”

  “I’ll think about it and let you know.” He got up and walked out.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CLAIRE PULLED INTO the garage next to her condo on Sunday afternoon after shopping for groceries. She helped Marcus out of his car seat and then popped open the car’s boot. Marcus, eager to help, ran to the back of the car and pulled out a bag of apples. Before she could stop him, he ran out of the garage toward their front door, swinging the bag. The bag broke and spilled apples out onto the sidewalk. He screamed and burst into tears.

  Claire set down her bags and rushed over to him. At the same time, a gray-haired woman ran toward him, bent down, and began scooping up the apples and placing them back in the mesh bag.

  “It’s okay,” the woman said. “Happens to me all the time.”

  “Thanks,” Claire said, “but you don’t have to do that.”

  “Pish-posh. What else do I have going on right now? I’ll tell you. Nothing. I couldn’t bear to watch another hour of television, so I went for a walk. I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Angie Williams. I live next door to you.”

  “Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Claire Constantine. This is my screaming son, Marcus.”

  “I’ve met Marcus. I see him with his nan
ny now and then. She takes him over to the park when the weather allows. “

  Claire stuffed the last of the apples into the bag. She remembered Brad telling her to act normally in her new place, not to hide away but be open with the neighbors. Unfortunately, all she really wanted to do was go inside. When she straightened up, Claire noticed that Marcus had quieted and was looking at Angie.

  “I ‘member you,” he said. “You brought donuts and gave ‘em to Nanny Kate and me. They were yummy.”

  Angie chuckled. “Yup. That bakery near the corner of Kipling and Wadsworth has the best donuts in town. I went over to buy one donut and in a moment of craziness came out with a dozen. I didn’t dare eat them all.” She padded her round stomach and laughed. “After eating two, I had to dispose of the rest so I took them around to neighbors.”

  Claire smiled tightly, and took hold of Marcus’s hand. Besides wanting to avoid people in general to minimize the lies, she really did need to work on plans for her next faculty meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning. She needed this meeting to go better than the first one, or she was sunk. The meeting and the mention of donuts suddenly clicked together.

  “Thanks for the tip about the bakery,” she said. “I’m holding a faculty meeting in the morning. I think I’ll stop by there and buy some donuts for the staff.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where do you work?”

  “Midland High School.” Angie opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

  “Well, hopefully it’s only temporary,” Claire said. “It doesn’t feel safe to me there.” Oh crap, I shouldn’t have said that.

  Angie nodded, and then tilted her head. “That reminds. I saw someone hanging around the building the last few days. Seemed like he was watching somebody or something. I went over and asked him what he was doing, and he asked if I knew you. I didn’t know your name so I said no. But then he mentioned a little boy around three or four. “

  Claire gasped. “What—what did you say, then?”

  “Nothing. I just shrugged my shoulders and went back inside.”